


Blood Drive

by Harmonica_Smile (Rescue_Remedy)



Series: MarLaw LawMar Ficlets [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Complete, Contains canon elements, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, MarLaw Ficlets, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Rare Pairings, Slice of Life, Supportive Partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28792875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rescue_Remedy/pseuds/Harmonica_Smile
Summary: Marco and Law both work for the Red Cross during a blood drive. Cue one cook prone to life-threatening nose bleeds, one marine prone to fainting, one navigator prone to lifting wallets. Life ain't easy.
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Trafalgar D. Water Law
Series: MarLaw LawMar Ficlets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110257
Comments: 13
Kudos: 19





	Blood Drive

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: If AU is allowed...they both work for the Red Cross/slice of life during a blood drive?

* * *

Blood Drive

* * *

"Drake." Law slumped across the desk, groaning, arms hanging over the edge, a file dangling from his fingers. "Do we have to?" He turned to look at Marco resting against the doorframe of the blood drive van.

Marco tapped the architrave as if following paths left by borers. They really had to update the trimmings. "You told Nami…"

"Asked…" Law said.

Marco looked across at him. He had a point. "Begged Nami to wear some clothes."

Law looked again at the wall in front of him, sighed, the form in his hand lifting from the gust. He sat back, tumbled his shoulders, shook his watch loose. "She's not my assistant."

Marco ran a finger down the list of donors for the day. Drake was first. "You really think that Chopper lets her take blood wearing just her bikini top and jeans?"

Law nodded. "Yeah. Blackleg's the proof."

"Not exactly hygienic."

Law agreed, though he didn't know if Marco meant the nosebleed that apparently flooded the other doctor’s clinic floor, or that too much bare skin really wasn't such a great idea in a sterile environment, unless you were stretched out on an operating table or mortician's slab.

"Blackleg's blood type is rare. Tony really wants to draw some to store."

"Hearing about those nosebleeds, I can see why."

"So, Bepo's helping him and Nami's helping us."

Marco knew. Both men looked wistful. Bepo mixed up their coffee and tea orders every time, but gave such good shoulder rubs—like, who else could touch Law except for Marco himself?—and diffused workplace tension, whether it was from the two overworked physicians, or the clients.

Nami was something else.

They'd reached for their own wallets to replace the cash a few donors said had been lifted as the "lady in the bikini" helped position them correctly for the needle placement.

Only to find a few coins.

Like, a beri or two.

Law, inked from fingertips to neck, was accused of being in cahoots, and he really didn't like being grabbed by the front of his shirt and dragged from his seat by one irate guy who should've been taking it easy.

Law was all snarl and canines when threatened and luckily Marco was there, shaking out his bereft wallet, and calling the bank to cancel their cards. He caught Law's head as he pulled it back to either deliver a Glasgow kiss or to barrel the guy in his throat.

Scholarships and grants, and income from part-time gigs that didn't always witness the inside of a tax office, had seen them through training, and it didn't take long for the street to bubble the skin of his fellow doctor.

It wasn't cool that the client manhandled Law, but they needed all the blood they could get and regular donors were scarce.

"Hands off." Marco stood behind Law, held his head, but stared the donor down.

The guy followed the small press of the blond physician's thumb into the darker mop of what must be…his partner? The snap in the eyes of the jailbird softened, and the client released the shirt he'd bunched up, and wiped his hands on his trousers.

Law turned to Marco less tense than before. Scraped a seat over the floor, sat, legs out, arms folded.

"We'll get your money back," Marco said and knew Law would probably draw from his own savings before he set about finding out where the pilfered cash had all gone. Once they got their replacement cards.

The guy jerked his head to show they better. Law jerked his in return. Marco placed a hand on his shoulder and Law didn't shove it away. Now was not the time for him to flip anyone off.

"Leave your name card," Marco said. Nami hadn’t taken his, so hopefully she’d left this guy's alone too. It was understandable he was upset. He scribbled a figure on the back of one, and left it on the front counter as he exited.

Marco pulled favours with less of a sting than those in Law's past circles, and the guy found not only the cash replaced the next day, but a huge basket of fruit. Nami had solely targeted Law and Marco's credit cards. Chopper must have painted them as easy hits or something.

Maybe they were.

Marco wanted to recall Bepo STAT, but Blackleg was on standby for the next week and every time Chopper drew up an appointment he'd had to cancel.

"Please, Law." Law's tongue caught in his throat at the quaver in Chopper's voice over the phone. "His blood's so rare. It might help so many people."

"Yeah," Law mumbled, and had somehow agreed to Nami not only working for them, but Marco and he paying her for a week of employment.

When she came in the day after her heist, she graciously decided to keep the sudden influx of donations from the clients and from the very kind doctors themselves instead of a week's wages, but let them know they shouldn't take it for granted. She was up-to-date on all the labour laws, and it never hurt to take white collar softies down a peg or two.

Law's eyes narrowed at the show-for-dough bling dangling from her earlobes.

She shrugged it off as jealousy. Double hoops were so pedestrian.

* * *

Marco placed a mug of coffee on Law's desk. Bepo fetched theirs in the morning because the few times they'd got their own (correctly) and Bepo's (also correctly), he'd been so crestfallen that they endured the mixed-up drinks and grabbed the right ones when they got a chance later.

He looked up and mouthed thanks. Marco peered over his shoulder at the report Chopper had sent in. Success. The 0.6% of the population that had Blackleg's blood type had a few more stocks to rely on. Law's sister hadn't been so lucky.

Earlier in the week, Chopper had assured them that Nami was a good person, and he'd personally reimburse them, which Law outright refused, because he knew it'd come from the younger doctor's pocket or Bepo's. And he trusted Chopper. He trusted Bepo. So there must be something to Nami that he just hadn't clicked with yet.

But Drake.

Drake fainted if he caught sight of too much skin. Female skin. He was one of their best lab techs, and always donated blood when called to. Last month the woman next to him had been wearing knee length shorts and a sleeveless hanky top. She really couldn't be more covered.

Maybe it was his upbringing.

He always claimed low blood pressure, but then assured them he was fine to have his blood taken, but he patently wasn't, having fallen to the floor. And he was huge.

Marco and Law could lift him, one gripping under his arms and shoulders, head pushed against gut, the other the feet, but it took time and then they had to check him for concussion and he scared away the other donors, no matter how many sweets and fizzy drinks they enticed them with. If Law was by himself he just dragged him by his feet to the edge of the room where he was less of an obstacle. Marco's lecture was on a scale of less severe than most.

Two months before that spell of dizziness, Kokoro had brought in a few reports. Her outfit was matronly, and she wore slacks under her dress, but needed to adjust the straps of her bra like a thousand women before her. And Drake passed out.

"Does that all the time." She stepped over him. "Luckily never when he's analysing a vial of blood."

.

.

Nami breezed in. Half an hour late. Had heeded their request to cover up a little more, though she'd berated Law saying not everyone got off on self-flagellation and wearing hairshirts.

"Clients don't always like the tatts," he said, rolling up his sleeves. "Donors are rare. Don't steal from them. Don't scare them away."

Chopper had called her and she vowed to get back at the two doctors for making her gentle friend cry. Though maybe the luxury resort holiday she'd booked herself, a week on a tropical island, was enough.

The fringed croptop covered a lot more than the bikini, though thankfully not her belly button, she liked to breathe. But jeans weren't shorts and flats sure beat high heels on the job, and the bling cheered up the kids that came with their parents or brothers and sisters.

Drake stepped inside and grabbed the doorframe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! All feedback love is met with love ♥ Guests and registered users can kudos and/or comment 😊(if they want to).
> 
> I know Oda's listed the Strawhat's blood types in an SBS, but I don't think they're real world blood, are they? or even if they are, I didn't look them up, and just ran with this. Of course, as I'm sure is obvious, I do not know a whole lot about collecting blood, and these guys work in a busy location where two doctors are needed. Lucky for them.
> 
> This was in response to a prompt from [hergan416](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hergan416/pseuds/hergan416). Hope it works for you (and everyone else reading too, of course x).


End file.
